


leave it behind you (it was never there)

by charcoalscenes



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: AU, Cages, Fairies, Knifeplay, M/M, No Sex, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Touching, Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 08:18:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4214718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charcoalscenes/pseuds/charcoalscenes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yuma wonders if it’s because of the adrenaline and shock from thinking he would get squashed by a giant falling object that Shingetsu’s grinning face peering at him through the bars isn’t daunting him and breaking his heart even further. </p>
<p>Yuma stares at him with wide eyes. “Shingetsu!–” </p>
<p>The voice that answers him is a parody of a cheerfulness familiar to him. “Who~?” </p>
<p>• </p>
<p>[ Yuma falls for a traitor. ]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> For the ygoshipolympics, a submission for team Foilshipping! Reminder to mind the tag warnings. Hope you enjoy! Thanks to the ygoshipolympics mods and the Foilship team~

Astral’s story is slurred by fatigue and the aftereffects of everything the healers gave hir, but Astral hirself is no less lucid. Sharp eyes remain directed at Yuma near the whole time ze dictates what happened to hir to Kaito and the rest of their group, all of them huddled around Astral’s bed as though the fairy had been narrating a compelling horror fantasy instead of simply voicing what happened to hir so that Kaito could make his crime report. It felt worse than a horror fantasy listening to hir, anyway.

“It can’t be,” Yuma replies, squeezing Astral’s hand tighter, both in apology for his doubt and as a plea for Astral to somehow change hir story. Something in Astral’s eyes harden, and the weight of Astral’s tired fury causes Yuma’s heart to sink with shame. Out of all the times to argue with hir, Yuma has to choose this one, when Astral’s chest had been injured to the point where a gaping hole had been seared into hir skin, deep enough that it nearly reached hir heart.

It takes Astral closing hir eyes from him and hir hand going limp with resignation in his hold for Yuma to stop himself from continuing his defense, one he knows from sensing Astral’s conviction to be false anyway: “It couldn’t have been Shingetsu! Ninety-six was probably trying to play a trick on you, making some lackey look like Shingetsu just to throw you off. He wouldn’t do this to you! He cares about you too!”

Behind him, Kotori reaches out and places a hand on his shoulder. Peering around and taking in the shocked faces of his friends, Yuma sees Ryouga looking not so much surprised as angry, glaring at some space between where Astral lies and where Yuma sits next to hir. It occurs to Yuma that Shark is just stopping himself from glaring at _him_ – for thinking to doubt Astral’s account of what happened at all.

And in moments, the full weight of what Astral said dawns on him, and Yuma begins to condemn himself for much more than just doubting his partner. “I’m _sorry_ , Astral,” he whines through his tears, clinging to Astral’s weak hand and burying his face in it. “I’m sorry!” He was the one who’d shoved Astral and Shingetsu together in the midst of Ninety-six’s latest attack, thinking he could trust his newest friend with getting Astral far away from hir homicidal rival. He’d left them alone together.

“I didn’t _know_ ,” he goes on as Kotori reaches for Astral as well. Astral had begun trembling. “I’m sorry.” 


	2. Chapter

“Get some sleep,” Kaito orders when he returns to the now nearly empty room. It’s just as well, since Yuma had determinedly proclaimed that he would stay on guard next to Astral but had remained slumped with his own shame and feelings of betrayal for long enough that he hadn’t even heard Kaito come in the room. “I’ll look after Astral now. So just sleep.”

Kaito’s voice is rarely soft and gentle, and Yuma is thankful that now is one of those rare times, despite that the words coming out of the Captain’s mouth are definitely commands. Yuma slinks from his chair, finally standing upright again, and it takes him a moment more for him to look past Kaito’s concern and say his thanks before heading for the door out of Astral’s sickroom.

He answers lamely when Kaito peers at him with some surprise, “I’ll rest better in home.” The Captain probably expected Yuma to just knock out on the small sofa in the room, not wanting to leave Astral’s side. “I’ll be back soon. I want to be here when Astral wakes up.”

Yuma leaves the room, leaves the building, and doesn’t sleep. Shingetsu had a hideout, and it was one _“I’ve only ever shown to one person, Yuma, and that’s you!”_ –But that might have been a lie, too.

It’s not fatigue that keeps Yuma slow and silent as he moves to travel back to his home, grab some supplies, and leave again for the short distance towards the shed where Shingetsu had kept stock of his less common and not-so-legal-to-have weapons and items. That should have been a red flag for Yuma; he didn’t complete his training by slacking off and not paying attention in class, despite the inside jokes and teasing he gets from the others. But Shingetsu’s cheer and devotion to the team had been so convincing, and Yuma had let himself drown utterly and completely into the easy trust that Shingetsu inspired.

Nearing the meeting place, the memory of Astral’s obvious ire towards Shingetsu, towards _Yuma_ , warred in Yuma’s mind with the one he knew as Shingetsu. He would regret it if he didn’t confront Shingetsu about it _now_ , just between the two of them.

He makes sure his Disk is loaded before approaching the shed. He doesn’t really know what to expect now, after something so unexpected had already occurred hours ago, but the sight of Shingetsu leisurely exiting from the front entrance with movements so casual and commonplace that it strikes Yuma as surreal is not what Yuma would have predicted. There’s another secret entrance and exit, Yuma recalls. There are more weapons in the shed than there are traps that Shingetsu had set up around it in case he had wanted to try and corner Yuma. That he would leave himself open to Yuma like this, and that the expression on his face remains passive rather than anxious or surprised, briefly inspires hope that Shingetsu really is innocent. That this is just the biggest misunderstanding he’ll ever have in his life.

With the same guiltless face he’s always worn, Shingetsu turns around and flees into the woods. For the umpteenth time within the last few hours, Yuma’s chest feels weighted. If Shingetsu is running, it’s up to Yuma to follow him, and catch him. It’s up to Yuma to pit Astral’s story against him and assume, now, that he really is guilty.

Yuma finds himself yelling Shingetsu’s name as he sprints after the other man through the dispersed trees, and repeats it.   
  
Despite their time together, the terrain still feels fairly new to Yuma, and though Shingetsu seems to easily sprint past countless trees and spring over the bumps and grooves and objects on the ground, Yuma can’t help but take more time to get around and over. “ _Shingetsu!!_ ” He calls out once more, and tries to raise his arm to shoot and stun the other man, but can’t quite aim while exerting himself by chasing. He fires anyway, missing when the other swerves easily, and hits the bark of a tree instead.

“Shingetsu!” He growls loudly, the yet-another-failure piquing his level of frustration, and Yuma uses the burst of emotion to sprint forward more quickly. It brings him close enough that he sees his target peer over his shoulder at Yuma, eyes wider and less passive. Yuma raises his arm to stun him again. “Stop–”

A loud series of pops startles Yuma so that his aim jerks, the stun just grazing bright red hair, and Yuma’s eyes dart in search for the source of the sound. Four small but thick open rings erupt from the soil, each with red targeting lasers that briefly blink before taking steady aim at Yuma’s wrists and ankles – and the detail makes him realize belatedly that this must be one trap near the shed that Shingetsu had kept secret from him.

“Shinge–” The rings dart forward towards their targets, closing over Yuma’s wrists and ankles before they pull him down ( _Magnetic_ , Yuma thinks) and force him to fall hard on his back onto the soil. He freezes from struggling at another sound ringing from above him, in the gap between two trees close enough that the leaves of their branches merge. The creaking grows louder, and Yuma’s eyes widen at the sight of something falling closer so that it would land right on top of him.

He screams louder than he thinks he ever has, full only of adrenaline and panic that it’s only after a moment more of continuous cries that he registers the sight of bars above him, the falling leaves and light canopy still in perspective, and realizes that this was the closest to him thinking he was going to die than he’d felt in a long time.

Shingetsu’s footsteps draw closer as Yuma struggles to free his limbs again, already dreading the claustrophobic impressions he would soon get should he be kept in here. He wonders if it’s because of the adrenaline and shock from thinking he would get squashed by a giant falling object that Shingetsu’s grinning face peering at him through the bars isn’t daunting him and breaking his heart even further.

Yuma stares at him with wide eyes. “Shingetsu!–”

The voice that answers him is a parody of a cheerfulness familiar to him. “ _Who~?_ ”

Yuma forces himself to keep the knee-jerk scream of “Stop messing around!” to himself, gritting his teeth and taking in the sight of Shingetsu smiling over him through the bars of the fallen cage trap. His clean hands brace him on the bars so that he can lean over Yuma comfortably. By the time Shingetsu laughs aloud softly, Yuma has already given up struggling.

“There it is!” Shingetsu cooes, leaning in closer. “That’s the face. That’s the expression I’ve been waiting for. You look best like this, Yuma; you know that?”

Though the attempts at pulling free from the rings binding him to the ground have ceased in Yuma’s resignation and the numbness that comes from another wave of betrayal, Shingetsu nonetheless pulls from his pocket the device Yuma recognizes as the control for Yuma’s restraints. The small remote is played with and fiddled between Shingetsu’s fingers, and Yuma watches the movement quietly under his friend’s smile.

“Shingetsu,” he murmurs, aware of how breathy and small his voice is, thin as the last thread of his denial. It’s broken quickly by the other’s quick snicker.

“I might as well tell you, then!” Yuma finally finds it in himself to be startled when the man above him plops and sits nonchalantly on top of the cage, crossing his legs and leaning back. “Shingetsu was a cover-up. Though it’s a bit nice to hear you keep saying it, it might be fun to hear you cry and scream my real name from now on.” In a tone that continues to speak as though the subject were of something as mediocre and mildly tedious as an upcoming training test, he firmly confesses, “Vector! Vector!” as though imploring Yuma to memorize it. “V-E-C-T-O-R!”

At the last letter, the rings click as they unlock, and Yuma slowly lifts himself up on his elbows, his face nearly coming to press against the bars. Vector laughs again, low and quiet. “Oh, Yuma, what are we going to do with you? Stop looking at me like a kicked puppy. It hurts.”

Yuma’s eyes snap at Vector’s fingers curled around a metal bar above him, and he shoots his own hand forward. Vector doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even seem to pay it any mind despite that Yuma’s grip, regardless of how precarious it is through the bars and through his trembling, is tight and firm.

“D-Did you really–!?” Strength returns to his voice, the anger at already knowing the answer to his question warring with his sadness. “ _You really did that to Astral!_ ” He screams, his rage winning out as he shouts at Vector’s growing smile. “Why would you work with Ninety-six! _I trusted you!!_ ”

Both his hands are up now, one still latched onto Vector and the other squeezing the bars. He only realizes he’s crying when tears run down to his ears instead of down his cheeks because of the angle he’s in, and the sensation reminds him of the situation – that he’s been trapped by a confirmed traitor, and he’s alone.

Vector gives a large sideways smile and tsks at Yuma. “I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to see you cry or not.” Yuma nearly chokes on the spit accumulating from his shouting and sobbing when Vector twists their joined hands so that he grasps Yuma’s wrist and _pulls_ , tugging Yuma up through the bars until the thicker flesh of Yuma’s arm stops him from being forced higher.

His cry is quiet, more surprised than in pain. “H-Hey–! What are you doing!?” He doesn’t know what to do with his other hand, making spurred movements – from attempting to use the bars as leverage to help him pull his captive limb free, to risking his free hand being grabbed as well by reaching out of the cage to grope Vector’s hold off. Though Vector obviously struggles with resisting Yuma’s strength, the knowledge that he’s simply putting up a fight isn’t enough to satisfy Yuma or motivate him to think of another more effective tactic.

Through his efforts, Vector still leers through gritted teeth. “Wasn’t sure if I’d want to tell you everything either–” He ponders aloud, mocking. Yuma growls in frustration as his free hand is eventually gripped by Vector as well, twisted through the bars so that trying to break free of the hold would bring more pain. “ _Obviously_ , Yuma, if two people are the last of their kind, you pick which side to fight on. And Astral’s power is much more tempting than your promises of _friendship_ or kisses – not that I didn’t appreciate them, though.”

The memories of the hidden affair and of gentle smiles (–artificial now at the sight of Vector’s true face) drive Yuma’s blood to rush to his face. The shame and rage give him enough strength for a brief tantrum, lifting himself up with the arms held up by Vector to strike where Vector sits atop the cage more forcefully with his legs. The cage vibrates rather than rattles, but the roar and action are enough to shake Vector, the relaxed smile on his face vanishing. Even as the shock turns into the most open expression of anger that Yuma’s ever seen on Vector’s (– _Shingetsu’s_ ) face, that he finally got Vector to snap out of his easiness inspires Yuma to pump his chest with a rare feeling of vindictiveness.

Vector’s hold on Yuma’s wrists tighten. “ _Yuma!_ ” He snaps, tugging Yuma up again, violent. Yuma responds with another strike with his legs, pulling himself up so that his weight only brings Vector lower and closer to the cage. He can only think of getting Vector’s hands through the bars so that Yuma could catch his fingers in his teeth and hold him there, but, beyond that, there’s not much of a plan – his Disk having landed outside of the trap and the few items around his belt more medical kits and stealth tools than anything that would help with direct combat.

Yuma hears Vector swear under his breath before he shifts, stomping one booted foot on the top bars of the cage before hauling Yuma up again with more strength, and Yuma is reminded of all the times Vector ( _Shingetsu_ ) bested him both in training and on the field. Despite kicking again, both of Yuma’s wrists are moved so that Vector holds them briefly in one hand. As Yuma flops back down on the soil, Vector reaches into his jacket pocket, and Yuma quickly lifts himself up and struggles against the hold again at knowing what Vector might pull out.

Though barely, Vector moves quickly enough to cuff Yuma’s wrists around two bars, the rings of the cuff looking similar to the ones which held Yuma down just moments before. At that, Vector finally releases Yuma with a sneer and leans back from the cage, stepping down from it completely. He stands beside Yuma and stretches, throwing up an annoyed look at the sky, and Yuma reacts to the returning languidness in Vector’s demeanor by roaring again, striking the bars with his boots and legs in frustration, ignoring the bruises that are no doubt forming from the harsh actions.

“ _Shingetsu!!_ ” He screeches, red in the face. The man peers at him in reply, one eyebrow raised in an exaggerated expression of irritation.

"Who the fuck is Shingetsu, Yuma?" Vector challenges, voice mocking again despite the absence of a smile. A boot stomps on the bars of the cage again, and Vector leans over his propped leg to look down. "Who is it, Yuma? Is it me? You still love me, Yuma?"

Yuma sucks his breath in sharply through his teeth, and Vector's face breaks into a grin again. "Oh yeah, I can see it! You do still like me – don't you, Yuma? Can't even answer a simple question. What the hell were you planning to do, taking me on by yourself? You wanted to talk? Did you want to hug and ask me to beg Astral for forgiveness after shoving some iron halfway to my target? You know…I might still do just that if you want to give hugging a try."

"Fuck you," Yuma swears, voice low and thick and even now only half-hearted. Even now, he can't bring himself to pretend to Vector or himself that the reasons he sought Vector out alone were entirely for what Vector thinks, in variations.

He had gotten to know Yuma so well as Shingetsu, after all, that Vector wouldn't even have had to ask to know Yuma's intentions. At Yuma's lack of response, Vector chuckles, covering his face with his hands and shaking his head. "You're unbelievable," he comments softly, then lays himself down on top of the bars entirely, keeping out of reach of Yuma's hands.

The cage doesn't creak or budge, and Yuma can hear the faint sound of Vector's clothes brushing metal. At seeing the advantageous position Vector's in, Yuma shuffles back in reflex, and feels the restraint on his wrists more distinctly than before.

"Want to run?" Vector asks pleasantly. Though he can't be too comfortable either, he shifts easily from atop the cage, leaning back and up so that he can unzip his jacket. The act is done so casually and suddenly that Yuma pauses, watching silently, and only blurts out a response once the heavy long-sleeved thing is tossed close aside.

" _What are you doing?_ " Yuma demands, straining his wrists from trying to inch away. Vector hums, eyes and upturned lips squinting and tight like the face of a cheshire cat. He sits back and lifts up his shirt, removing it and leaving only his undershirt left. " _What are you doing?_ "

"Making it easier for me to reach you, obviously." The top shirt is thrown too, nearly covering Yuma's discarded Disk. Vector props himself again so that he lays back down over Yuma. "The uniforms they gave us have always been pretty thick and stuffy, right? You should've taken yours off too." One hand reaches down, Vector's naked arm snaking through the bars so that his hand palms and slides over Yuma's waist.

Vector isn't shaken off even as Yuma jumps, startled, and wriggles in the limited space. " _Shin–!!_ " He stammers, and Vector's hand grips Yuma at his outburst, nearly holding Yuma still.

"What? _What?_ " His expression copies the one he had before he covered his face. "Again, Yuma? Heh, it's fine! Try to keep saying it – maybe the more you do, it'll eventually come true~!"

The shirt, almost identical to the one Vector had on, is lifted enough to leave Yuma's belt and stomach naked. "Tsk, tsk." Vector reaches to his own belt, tugging out one of the small daggers that Shingetsu had confessed was one of his favorites. "What do you have here, Yuma? What's in there – darts? Real bullets? Let's see…"

Vector reaches in again and swiftly hooks the blade through the leather of the belt, and Yuma barely suppresses the whimper that comes from feeling the cold blade brush his skin. "…Please."

"Hm? What," Vector pauses, giving Yuma the softest look Yuma had seen on his face since their current rendezvous. He's not sure why Vector would look that gentle _now_. "Sorry, Yuma. I know how that must have looked like to you just now. Were you thinking I was undressing for something else? Something other than wanting to fit my arm through and grab your supplies?"

Despite himself, Yuma blushes, can feel the heat in his face, and the shame is strong enough that he forgets to hold back the whimper at Vector ripping off his belt quickly, the motion harsh enough that Yuma's waist is briefly tugged up along with the torn garment.

Vector gives another pause. "Oh?" His lips tremble, the mockingly soft expression cracking as he meets Yuma's eyes. "Yuma, did you like that just now? Should I have torn off your pants instead of just the kit?"

He laughs, loud enough that Yuma's roar of " _Shut up!!_ " is close to drowned out. Another hand drops down and grabs Yuma's belt, and Vector props himself back up sitting, placing the dagger down flat on the bars so that he can rummage through Yuma's items on his lap.

"Hmm~ Hmm~" There was one instance, weeks ago, Yuma thinks, where he had rested on Shingetsu’s lap as the other man read one of the training pamphlets out of boredom during a break. The view from down here is almost similar, as is the ease with which Vector observes Yuma's supplies now. "As I thought, really. Nothing fatal? _Thank you_ , Yuma. Oh, have you gotten better at undoing locks?" He holds the device in question between his fingers, waving it playfully. "Naughty in so many ways. Would you have used this if I hadn't tied you up?"

The belt with its open compartments, along with the few items Vector had held in his hands, are chucked behind Vector, farther than his clothes or Yuma's Disk. "Ohh~ Too bad." Vector shrugs at Yuma helplessly, and Yuma has half the mind to retort when Vector plops back down, swiping to hold the dagger again before resting on his stomach, head over crossed arms.

"Comfy?" He inquires as he lowers his dagger once more into the cage, speaking over Yuma’s gasp and attempted scuffling. "Did you really want to try this, then? Play around like we did before?"

No knives involved, at that time – only once in the institute after a meet with Kaito and Astral. Yuma doesn't remember which of them had cornered who near the school’s deserted fields. They hadn't gotten any further than Vector pinning Yuma to the wall, one hand dangling and fiddling with Yuma's clothes until it began to rub between his legs. It was surprisingly vulgar, and Yuma pressed against him.

"What if I say I'll stop if you do something for me?" The flat of the knife slides over Yuma's shirt, from his collar to the pulled up midriff and down to slide against the skin exposed over his pants. "It's nothing bad, but honestly, a huge part of me doesn't want you to do it. Does part of you not want me to stop either, Yuma? Even now?"

Even now, in the face of the betrayal, of Astral's injury and of his own dilemma and of Vector's exaggerated jabs, Yuma feels his attention focus more vividly on the way Vector looks at him, and he regards the feel of the dagger shifting in Vector's fingers so that the tip threatens to rip open the top of his pants with only nearly as much focus. Nothing has changed in Vector's face when clouded with lust from the way it had with Shingetsu. Nothing has changed in his expression while pointing a blade at Yuma from when he had simply wanted a kiss.

The sight of it and the sharp edge of the knife grazing his skin inspired an angry ringing to sound in Yuma's mind and ears. "What is it!?" He demands, the muscles that were already straining from his position growing more tense from the now still knife. His voice trembles, but he's shown enough weakness since deciding to come here that his shame over these signs is starting to wane. "What do I have to do?"

Vector's smile fades once more, slowly, the man looking pensive. The dagger pauses as well, though for not as long, and before Vector speaks, the blade moves up again, tearing the bottom of Yuma's shirt. The ripping is slow and loud as the blade travels up, almost to Yuma's chest. " _Hey!_ W-Wait!"

"Say my name," Vector answers, his hand stopping. Yuma's breaths are shallow once more, quick and again sounding on the verge of tears. "My real one now, of course; you've been saying the fake one non-stop since you got here. I told you my name. Let me hear you say it."

 _No_ , Yuma thinks to argue. Of course he will do it. He'll say it. Part of him knows that calling the person above him Vector might be the death of Shingetsu all over again, the first time he died to Yuma being the moment Astral had stared at Yuma steadily throughout hir story. Part of him knows that it's what Vector's looking for, what he wants to see.

"Go on," Vector nudges, another inch of Yuma's shirt quickly ripping in his impatience. "Did you forget it already?"

"No," Yuma answers, quiet. He can't swallow, his throat feeling simultaneously thick and parched.

Vector's eyes flash. "No…?"

"–Vector," Yuma finishes. The wetness trickles irritatingly down his ears again. "Vector, stop."

The dagger is brought back up, past the bars, and Vector rests his head on his crossed arms once more. His mouth stays unsmiling before it's hidden behind his arms, and his expression remains serene as he stares at Yuma quietly. Yuma lets himself continue to cry, noticing the smallest movements in Vector's eyes, the way they follow the paths his tears make.

"One more time," Vector urges. "How about it?"

And Yuma, prone and helpless and missing someone who's never existed, gives him what he wants. "Vector, why'd you do it?"

Yuma doesn't really expect an answer, had really only thought to appease a former lover now holding him hostage, but Vector huffs out a laugh in reply. "Oh, you know. Power," he answers easily, lifting himself up and showing his face again. "If that's what you're asking. If you want to know why I did what I did to you though, then, well. Yuma. I never lied when I said I like you."

He grunts, pushing himself off the cage. Yuma watches him as Vector lifts and wears his jacket again, mortified at both his words and at where his current actions are headed. Without another glance, Vector turns and walks away towards the direction behind Yuma.

"Vector!!" Yuma screams in panic, wriggling to peer behind him at Vector's retreating form. " _Vector!_ Wait, please! _Hey!_ –"

It may be because of the limit to his view, or because Vector had already strode a great distance, but he quickly loses sight of the other. "Vector! Vector!" He stomps the cage bars this time before divulging his speech into a mixed series of roars and sobs. " _Why_ _Why **Why!!**_ " 


	3. Epilogue

The sunlight still pierced through the light canopy of leaves overhead when Vector left, and light has completely faded to make way for night well by the time he returns.

Yuma doesn't hear him approach, somewhere between waking and sleep, drained and numb to the stiffness of his limbs and having been able to do nothing but stare skywards, not really looking or observing anything. He sees memories and regrets, of the times Astral glared sideways at the direction he and Shingetsu had stood, of the times when he wondered why they could never, for some reason, be comfortable with each other.

"It's fine," Shingetsu grinned, cheeky. "Not everyone can be friends."

"I just want Astral to see you for who you are," Yuma explained. "I mean, you make me happy."

He had kissed Yuma with a snort. "That's enough for me."

"You should eat," Vector comments, setting down the tupperware and thermos beside Yuma. Yuma doesn't know whether he's beginning to dream or not until Vector leans over him, bracing himself on the bars. "I brought you something." He's wearing different clothes now, simple ones with a hood and cap. Clothes to hide in. "I can feed you," he suggests, unsmiling and seemingly genuine. "Or I can let you feed yourself, uncuff you. I'm not really worried about you getting out. Which do you want?"

Yuma stares up at him, but whatever hurt or residual anger shows in his face, it's not enough to get another reaction from Vector. "Ah…" He tests his voice, surprised that he still somehow has one.

"In any case, don't be scared," Vector assures. "No doubt your friends have already noticed that you've been M.I.A. hours ago and have started looking for you. If they don't find you by the time I'm at a safe distance, I'll send a tip. But, whatever, it's Kaito; they'll be here. Hurry and decide."

"Don't go," Yuma answers, and Vector repeats the same action as earlier but with a tighter smile, closer to a sneer, and covers his face with his hands. He shakes his head.

"Shit, Yuma." He takes the remote from his pocket and attaches the tip to the fitted groove in Yuma's cuffs. They unlock, and Vector quickly swipes them off before stepping back. His movements are relaxed but cautious, and Yuma doesn't have it in him at the moment to tell Vector that he wouldn't have taken the opportunity to strike or grab him through the bars with his hands free even if given the chance.

Yuma shifts, a bit towards one side and then agonizingly slow to the other. It would be better if he'd have enough room to stretch, but there's no way to really release the cramps that have gathered throughout nearly his whole body.

Beside him, Vector sits at a distance outside the bars. The tupperware is open and placed close to the cage so that Yuma would easily be able to reach out and grab the chocolates inside. He spots chocolate-covered strawberries and what look like round truffles, all of which give off a strong enough scent that Yuma is reminded of how little he's had all day. The scent of coffee joins it as Vector pours from the thermos into the detachable cup. Both are placed closer to Yuma as well.

It takes long for Yuma to gather himself well enough until he can prop himself on his elbows, his arms no longer trembling from the weight of him. He looks to the food outside and reaches out, hand barely lifting from the ground and groping for the cup of coffee. His fingers, from tiredness or eagerness or both, nearly knock the drink over, and Vector shoos his hand away to pick it up for him.

"Just let me do it," he seethes. "Honestly." No longer cautious, Vector fits the small cup through, pressing it to Yuma's lips, and tips it enough for Yuma to sip without choking.

The cup is put back down, and one of the round snacks is all but shoved into Yuma's mouth. "Have some," Vector snaps. Yuma opens his jaw wider and does.

Vector leans back when Yuma manages to sip his coffee on his own and lets out another loud sigh. "Pathetic." Yuma winces and tsks at him, and Vector goes on, "I think I can honestly play with you all day, bad as you are at your job and judging others. Someone damn well near kills the partner you've been assigned to protect and what do you do – go blindly to find him on your own? Hell, Yuma, you're the best thing to happen in my life; easiest fucking person to play."

"Quiet," Yuma snaps, half-tempted to throw the hot beverage brought for him at Vector's face. "Please. No more."

" _Please_ ," Vector mimics. " _No more._ " His sneer trembles and almost becomes a smile. "That's so weak. I really got you bad."

 _Yeah._ Yuma doesn't say it, doesn't need to. He would catch Vector now, if given the real chance. Next time they were on even ground, Yuma out of this prison, he'd pursue Vector more genuinely than he had tried today, but that Yuma had allowed this to happen at all was testament enough to how deeply Shingetsu had seduced him.

Vector sits quietly with him as Yuma's first cup slowly empties, and then he stands up. Yuma peers at him past the hand that Vector extends to palm the side of Yuma's face and stroke him.

"Do you still want me to do it?" Vector asks. "Touch you while you're in there? It might be the last time."

Yuma's eyes blink wide once more, not knowing if Vector is sincerely curious or cruel. He shakes his head. "Please stop," he adds, reaching up to hold the hand touching him. Vector swiftly moves away.

He steps back and snickers. "Not even talking about the teasing, are you?" He crouches down, and Yuma sees him clutch the discarded shirt he had on earlier today. Flapping it twice, some of the dirt that had accumulated flies off, and Vector tosses it to Yuma's direction, letting it flow near him and the food. "You can't be serious," he continues. "No, Yuma, I won't stop. Enjoy Astral while the two of you can still be together."

Yuma eyes the extra cloth given to him silently. Gaze snapping back at Vector, he grips metal with one hand, clenches the other in a fist. "You're not gonna kill me?" He challenges, the back of his mind reeling at the fact that a criminal, one who hurt his _partner_ , is about to get away right in front of him.

Vector snorts. "Do you want me to?" He turns away, this time taking the time to grin at Yuma as he steps away. "Maybe later, then. Next time. Really, I wasn't sure if you'd even come, but it was a nice goodbye, wasn't it?"

Some sense returns to Yuma, probably from the little strength that the food had given him, and he strikes the cage again with the flat of his arm. "Vector! You won't get away with this – I won't let you hurt Astral again!"

Vector stops and laughs at Yuma over his shoulder. " _Look_ at you!" He degrades before walking away again.

Even when this physically weak, Yuma feels his jaw lock at Vector's last word, and the blank, tired gaze he wore before Vector came back returns. Absent-mindedly, he stares down and reaches for the thermos again, thinking to try and ground himself to its warmth.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It wouldn't have been Yuma if he didn't try to say something a little cliché/heroic as the last word. 
> 
> The prompt for this round was Chocolate or Coffee. Wow, delicious~ 
> 
> (More older fics in empraise.tumblr.com/fanfiction)


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